Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Bolivia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Suicide to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Unwound. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Henry Cow,
Amon Düül,
Ken Boothe,
Symarip,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Magazine,
The Durutti Column,
Charles Mingus,
The American Breed,
Max Romeo,
Stereo Dub,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marc Almond,
Skarface,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sugar Minott,
Skriet,
Blake Baxter,
Black Moon,
Kas Product,
Q and Not U,
The Pop Group,
Toni Rubio,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Hardrive,
Mark Hollis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Anthony Braxton,
The Mummies,
Pet Shop Boys,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Barrington Levy,
Second Layer,
Dead Boys,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Nils Olav,
Youth Brigade,
Scrapy,
Bill Near,
The Selecter,
Lalo Schifrin,
Barbara Tucker,
Essential Logic,
Ossler,
Lucky Dragons,
Vladislav Delay,
Ultimate Spinach,
Siglo XX,
The Happenings,
The Searchers,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Last Poets,
Little Man,
The Leaves,
Robert Görl,
the Association,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Con Funk Shun,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.